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this-idiots-left-eye · 3 years

Text

In Plain Sight

Cover art by Stlyrica on instagram!! I’ll put a link to it in a reblog!!

Fandom: Pandora Hearts

Summary: When Break hides Gilbert's favorite Christmas ornament somewhere in the Rainsworth manor, the Golden Trio must spend the afternoon looking for it. But why is it so special to Gil?

Notes: I originally wrote this for the prompt "Ornaments" in an alphabetical Christmas prompt list my friends and I did in 2017--(it was going to be part of a group of Christmas fics we all wrote for different fandoms. Some of the people in that group hadn't read PH, so that's why this fic has some explanations for who the characters are). Then I posted it for Pandora Hearts Month 2018 for the Golden Trio Prompt: Friendship. I hope you like it! I would really appreciate it if you could reblog and/or leave a comment to let me know if you enjoyed it!

“You’re the tallest, Gil, you should put the star on top!”

“Ooh! It looks yummy! Like a big cookie!”

“It’s not a cookie, Stupid Rabbit!”

It was a few days before Christmas, and the trio was at the Rainsworth manor. Finally, everything was ready for the holiday; a fire was dancing in its place, the stockings were all lined up on the mantle, and they had just put the finishing touches on the tree. The only one who hadn’t been informed about the festive season, was the sky outside; it had been raining for the past few weeks. There was a chill in the air, it was frosty, but snow hadn’t quite come yet. Still, they made the most of their time indoors.

“Perfect!” Oz exclaimed.

Oz Vessalius was the fifteen-year-old heir to the Vessalius dukedom, but after his escape from the Abyss that year, when he wasn’t off on adventures, and missions, he spent most of his time at the Rainsworth’s.

“It’s so pretty, Onii-chan!”

On account of the ten-year gap, Oz’s sister, Ada, was older than Oz now, but, no matter what, she would never stop seeing him as her older brother. She was on Christmas break from Lutwidge Academy, and more than happy to spend it at the Rainsworths, with her brother. She had, of course, brought her two cats—Snowdrop and Kitty—with her, (which Gilbert maintained a healthy distance from, due to his phobia of cats).

“The Rainsworths will have the best-decorated tree in town!”

Oscar, their uncle, was spending the afternoon with his niece and nephew too. He was a bearded, bespectacled man, with the same blonde hair and green eyes as the rest of his family. At the moment, he was sitting on one of the couches, with a cup what he called ‘tea’, but which the rest of them guessed probably had something stronger in it.

“I can’t take all the credit, Gil and Alice helped a little,” Oz joked.

“‘A little!’”

Gilbert was Oz’s servant; a dark-haired man, who often appeared cold and reserved, but who was rather sensitive, and a worrywart. He still sometimes acted as though they were only a year apart in age too, despite the fact that he was now ten years older than his master.

“Yeah, manservant!” Alice challenged, “More like we did all the work!”

“I was just teasing!”

“Well,” Sharon had a way of returning things to order with her calm and proper words, “you all did a wonderful job.”

Sharon was the heiress to the Rainsworth dukedom, and looked like a thirteen-year-old girl, though was really in her twenties or thirties—(they knew better than to ask her exact age). Her chestnut hair was usually tied back into a kind of half-ponytail, and, as always, she outmatched them all on style points; today it was with a dress of a wintery blue that looked as if she was trying to encourage the snow to fall. As per usual, she held a cup of tea in one hand—peppermint, she had informed them, for the Christmas season—and a pastry in the other. She was sitting at a small round table on the other side of the room, with Reim—duke Barma’s bespectacled, hard working, servant, who spent more time at the Rainsworth’s than anywhere else, with his two best friends—Sharon and Break.

“Well, I’m beat,” Alice stretched and yawned, “Seaweed-head, when are you going to make me some meat?”

Most Chains (creatures from the Abyss) didn’t look like Alice did; like a fourteen-year-old girl, with floor length brown hair, and an almost cat-like physique—(though it was a giant rabbit she often turned into). Also unlike other illegally contracted Chains, she did not have a thirst for human blood, although she did have a particular love for meat, as well as almost anything edible.

“I suppose I can make you something, now that we’ve finished,” Gil sighed.

“Oh? Have you now?” they turned to see Sharon’s servant, Xerxes Break, grinning as he poured himself another cup of tea. “Are you sure nothing’s…” he leaned back against the table, “missing?”

Break was a red-eyed, white-haired man, also much older than he looked. Even those close to him would say he was a bit of an acquired taste; his love for teasing, the creepy doll on his shoulder, and his general lack of regard for other people and their feelings, made it difficult for those subject to his mischiefs—such as Gilbert—to acquire any kind of affection for him.

Gilbert froze, turning his head slowly to the tree. His eyes immediately found the empty space where a certain ornament had been.

“Break!” he shouted, spinning back to him, “Must you do this every year?!”

“Let an old man have his fun.” Break grinned.

“I believe he must, Gilbert-sama,” Sharon answered Gilbert’s question, nonchalantly taking a sip of tea before continuing, “It has become something of a tradition.”

“I should have spent Christmas with he Nightrays this year,” Gilbert grumbled, reluctance in his motions as he began to pick up books, and other objects around the room, as if searching.

“You’re so mean,” Break chided playfully, then spoke a little more seriously, knowing Gilbert had no intentions of spending much time with his adoptive family, and real brother, “You’d rather spend Christmas with the sewer rat, than us?”

Gil gave him a death glare.

“Sorry…but what’s a tradition?” Oz asked, turning to Sharon and Break.

He wouldn’t admit it, but sometimes, especially with things like this, the ten-year gap could make Oz feel like an outsider.

“Every year Break takes Gilbert-sama’s favorite ornament,” Sharon explained, “And hides it somewhere in the manor.”

“Ooh! That sounds like fun!”

“It’s not fun, Oz!” Gilbert hollered at his master, “It’s a waste of a perfectly good afternoon! Not to mention annoying, and rude!”

Break laughed. Gil had yet to learn his outrageous reactions were what made this sort of thing so fun for the prankster.

“Don’t worry, Gil!” Ada bounded up to him, “I’ll help you look!”

Gilbert flushed, “T-Thank you.”

“What does it look like, Gil?”

He looked at Oz, then turned back to Ada, and explained it quietly enough that only she could hear.

She nodded, beaming, and began to look in a different part of the room.

“What’s the matter, Gil?”—Gil gasped as his master appeared suddenly at his other side—“You don’t want me to know what it is?” Oz’s laugh faded into a more puzzled expression when Gil averted his eyes, turning redder.

“It’s a secret, Onii-chan!” Ada answered for him, “You’ll see when we find it!”

He didn’t get the chance to ask anything more, because Alice broke in, having been observing all their interactions,

“Does…Does this mean I won’t get my meat?”

“Uh huh,” Gilbert sighed, “That’s exactly what it means.”

“No! I will not allow it!” Alice shook her head, and whirled around on Break, pointing at him in an accusatory manner, “Clown! Return Seaweed-head’s stupid ornament his instant!”

“It’s not stupid, Stupid Rabbit!”

“Aren’t you a spoilsport?” The Mad Hatter teased, then the doll on his shoulder, Emily, finished,

“Why should I listen to some dumb bunny?”

Alice growled, her hands clenching into fists. She spun to Gilbert, declaring as she ran up to him,“Then I won’t rest until I find that ornament! With the great Alice-sama on your side, you cannot fail!”

“Sure you won’t just get in the way?”

She kicked him in the shin, crossing her arms, “You’d be lost without me, Seaweed-head.”

“Don’t kick me, Stupid rabbit!” he rubbed his leg, “Now go look for it over there!” he stamped his injured foot back down and pointed to the opposite corner of the room, (to which she quickly ran, proceeding to tear her designated space apart in a matter of seconds.)

“Is this ornament really all that important, Gil? I mean, we have lots of—”

“Yes!” he answered before his master could finish, “it is!”

Oz sighed, knowing how attached his servant could get to things, “Alright. So…is us helping against the rules?” he asked, watching Alice destroy the room in search of it, Ada calmly remove things, and put them back where they were meant to go, and Gil as a mix of the two.

“Don’t you think we would have stopped them if it was, Oz-kun?”

Sharon shook her head, “It doesn’t matter who finds it, watching him search is the fun part.” Her mischievous side was showing; most of the time she was this prim and proper lady, but being close to Break had its effects.

“That’s right; the more people searching, the funnier it is when they can’t find it,” Break sang. “Though, tell me, Ojousama,” he turned to his mistress “are you merely saying that because you wagered he’d find it early—before 18:00?” he asked knowingly, sitting up on the table—(Reim gave him a look that could only be interpreted as: can-you act-any-less-like-a-servant?)

They turned to the clock—it was 15:00.

“Why do you want to know, Break?” his mistress asked with a tone of false interest, “Are you afraid your skills as a prankster have gone down with age?” she patted her mouth innocently with a napkin.

“What do you take me for, Ojousama?” he smirked, crossing his legs, narrowing his eyes at Gilbert, “He’ll need all the help he can get.”

Gilbert returned to him an even more murderous look.

“You… betted on this?”

“All part of the tradition, Oz-kun,” Break mentioned, stealing a mini pastry from Reim’s plate—(the incense was more than evident on Reim’s face, and probably why Break did it).

“It’s not money we wagered, though; If I win, Break has to swear off sweets over Christmas—as well as make me a lavish dessert full of those sweet things he can’t have. And if Break wins, I have to buy him an equally lavish amount of extra Christmas candy and sweets.”

“Nice! Break, I didn’t know you could bake!”

“He really can’t,” Sharon chuckled, “But it’s fun to see what he comes up with.”

Break glared at her.

“So… is this how you bet every year?”

“Sometimes it’s different. But it’s usually something to the effect of giving Break a taste of his own medicine…Though I seem to recall one year, I wanted Break to do this dance I had heard of in a book, if he lost. I believe it was called ‘Futterwacken.’”

“That’s a weird name for a dance!” Oz laughed, “So? How did that go?

“I suppose it is,” she smiled, “That was one of the tamer punishments, but, when he did lose, he refused—rather blatantly.”

“Really?!” he turned to Break.

“How many times must I tell you? I have no talent for dancing.”

“Truly, as a servant of the Rainsworth Dukedom, it would be better fitting that you learned,” she shook her head, then turned back to Oz, “Anyway, after that, we thought the chance to take away his candy was rather enjoyable.”

“Aw, I want to join the bet!”

Gilbert looked affronted, but before he could speak, Oz continued, boyish excitement simmering in his tone,

“Say, what if, if Break loses, I get to eat his candy instead?!”

Sharon and Break glanced at each other.

“Let me ask you something, Oz-kun;” Break set down his tea, “Are you willing to risk the consequences of such a wager?”

“Ehh…consequences?”

“Why of course. I couldn’t give little Oz-kun the chance of stealing my candy without the proper torment in store if he lost.”

“Eh…” Oz knew just how mean Break could get, and that this could very well turn into a prank war that ended in actual blood, “I think I’ll pass.”

“I always said you were smarter than you looked,” the Mad Hatter picked up his tea again.

“Maybe you could join in by helping me look, instead of encouraging them, Oz!” Gilbert whirled on him.

“Aww, do I have to?” the fifteen-year-old groaned.

“Oz!”

Oz turned to the masterminds, as if silently asking for them to give him an excuse not to.

“Hey, Oz-kun is sharp,” Break began, then Emily added,

“Probably smarter than these three put together!”

—two of the aforementioned three gave him what can only be described as ‘fight-me’ faces, and Ada looked disheartened—Break took no notice, and finished,

“So that depends; whose side are you on?”

“Well,” Oz thought for a moment, then mused, grinning, “it would be fun to see Break trying to swear of candy!”

“Is that so?” Break’s eye narrowed.

“In any case, why isn’t Reim-san helping?” he shifted the focus. “You’re not the kind of person to sit back while others are in trouble”

Reim sighed, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “While that may be true, these two are often harsher with me, than others. If I help you, I have a feeling I shall pay for it in some way later,” he shot them an icy look, “dearly.”

“Whatever do you mean, Reim-san?” Sharon asked innocently. “We thought you enjoyed our company.”

“Yeah, it’s only because you’re our favorite, Reim-san,” Break gave a fake sappy voice.

“Then pick a new favorite!”

“That’s not how it works! You have a lifetime guarantee!”

“Sharon,” it was Ada who spoke. She had been focused on searching on the mantelpiece, and inside the stockings, “Why are there nine stockings?”

“What do you mean, Ada?” Oz asked, stepping over to her.

“Well, I was just thinking; there’s me, Onii-chan, Uncle, and Alice,”—Alice looked annoyed at Ada mentioning her name—“since we’re staying here for Christmas,” she pointed at each of the stockings in turn, “and these belong to Sharon-sama, Break, Duchess Rainsworth-sama, and Reim-san, right? But who does this last one belong to?” she held the bottom of the last one, careful not to pull it off the mantle.

They turned to Break and Sharon, who glanced at each other, their mischievous grins fading into more somber, reminiscent expressions.

“It was Break’s idea,” Sharon answered.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit—“

“It’s for my mother…That has become something of a tradition as well. We just thought it would be nice, to have something to remember her by during the Christmas season.”

The tone in the room quieted; the rest of them knew that Shelly was Sharon’s mother, who had died sometime after Oz’s coming of age ceremony.

“That’s…actually really sweet,” Oz noted, “Break, I’m surprised you thought of it!”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you? And you say that like I’m cruel.”

“Well…” Oz rubbed the back of his neck, smiling nervously, trying to formulate a non- insulting answer in his mind.

“I think what Oz is trying to say,” Reim started out gently, then finished harshly, “Is that it’s high time you realized you can be a jerk, Xerxes!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say jerk’…” Oz began.

“I would,” Gil mumbled.

“My…I cant believe that you all….” Break began softly, then Emily jeered,

“Just figured that out now!”

The anger was evident on all of their faces.

“Really, why are you all ganging up on me,” Break grinned, without a hint of hurt in his voice, “when you should be focusing on the task at hand?”

“Because it’s your fault we’re in this mess!” Gilbert shouted, then ran his hand frustratedly through his hair, observing the mess they had made of the room, before demanding, “Is it in this room?!”

“Given up already, have you?” Emily teased.

Gilbert clenched his hands into fists, biting back a retort.

“Did anyone see him leave the room?!”

Everyone looked at Gilbert blankly, or up at the ceiling, trying to think if they had, realizing they had no idea, and knew full well Sharon could have used Eques to transport him when their backs were turned anyways. Gilbert put his hands on his hips, sighing at their silence “Alright. We have a whole manor to look through, it’s best we move on from this room,” he paused, turning again to Break, with malice in his eyes, “Right?”

“Sure, kiddo!” Emily replied, and he gave the fakest grin yet.

Gilbert gritted his teeth, then shook his head, directing them,

“Let’s split up; Ada, you go down the left hall, Stupid Rabbit, you take the right. I’ll go downstairs.”

“I won’t let you down, Seaweed-Head!” Alice sped down the hall, not even searching, as if she had forgotten the task she’d been given.

Ada nodded, “Come on, Snowdrop, Kitty!” she called to her cats.

Oz sighed, “Alright, fine. I’ll help too.”

Gilbert smiled, about to thank him, when Oz added,

“But I expect to be rewarded for my troubles!”

His servant rolled his eyes.

“I kinda need to know what it looks like, though, don’t I, Gil? You seemed to want to keep it a secret earlier.”

“You’ll…um….You’ll know it when you see it,” Gilbert looked anywhere but at his master.

Oz sighed, putting his hands on his hips, “Really? That kinda makes things harder, you know.”

“Oh, not up to the challenge, are you Oz-kun?” Break goaded.

“No, no, I can do it! I just feel like we’re not addressing a key part of the puzzle here!”

With that Gilbert pulled him out of the room and into the search.

Gilbert was right; it did seem like a bit of a waste of an afternoon; exhausting wasn’t the only word that came to mind after rifling through each room one by one, with no clue as to where it might be. Especially because the feeling began growing in them that Gilbert was way too attached to things, as well as that Break was, indeed, a jerk. They didn’t know how much time had passed before they met up again in the hall, everyone hanging their heads in shame and disappointment.

“What should we do?” Ada asked quietly.

“We can’t let the clowny bastard win!” Alice slammed a fist into her other palm to emphasize her point.

“That’s right!” Gilbert agreed, “For years I had to put up with his constant teasing, it’s high time we got him back!”

“I don’t think losing the bet is really going to make him stop. I mean, he’s lost before, right?”

“You don’t have to be so blunt about it!” Gilbert complained.

“Sorry,” Oz shrugged.

In the moment of silence that followed, Ada’s cat started rubbing against Oz’s leg, as if trying to comfort him.

“What do you think, Snowdrop?” Oz asked jokingly, picking up his sister’s cat, (Gilbert eyed it, a whine developing in his throat, scooching away), “Do you have any idea where it is?”

Oz gasped.

“What is it, Onii-chan?”

Tied into the cat’s collar was a ribbon, attached to a little ornament. He pulled it free and placed the cat on the floor (it meowed and padded away).

The other three gasped in turn, leaning in to get a better look at it.

“That bastard!” Gilbert slammed his fist into the wall behind him. “He knew I wouldn’t go near your cats!”

“Yeah,” Oz laughed, “leave it to Break to take the cheap shot.”

“What are we waiting for?!” Alice demanded, “Didn’t I just say we can’t let the clowny bastard win!”

“You’re right!” the others said together, and bolted down the hall.

“We found it!” Oz held the ornament high, like a trophy, as they burst through the door.

At the same moment that he held up the evidence, the hour chimed.

They each glanced at each other, then at the clock, which read exactly 18:00.

“My, my, isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” Break remarked, stretching, “It looks like it’s a tie, Ojousama.”

“It would appear,” Sharon smiled “In that case, would you please excuse me for a moment?” she gathered her dress and hurried out of the room.

“So, which one of you found it?” Break asked, walking over to them.

“I did.”

The prankster smirked, “What did I tell you?” he ruffled Oz’s hair, “Oz-kun’s sharp.”

“So… what does that mean about your wagers?” Oz tried to put his hair right. “Since you tied?”

“Just a moment Oz-kun,” he put his hand on Oz’s head, his sleeve falling over his eyes, and looked over their heads

Sharon quickly did return, a little out of breath, holding a small package wrapped in a ribbon.

“Here you are, Break!” she held it out for him.

He took it from her and unwrapped it, opening the little red box to reveal that it was filled with the the candy she had promised.

“Just the thing I needed” he patted her head, unwrapping a piece and tossing it into his mouth. “Better luck next time, Ojousama,”

Oz and Alice stared at him, open-mouthed, dumbstruck that he had beat them.

“Now I suppose I should get started on that dessert of yours,” he waited until the proper moment to add.

“Please do.”

“Huh?” Oz and Alice asked simultaneously.

“Since we tied,” Sharon spoke, as they both turned to them, “we both win.”

“So…does that mean the clown still has to swear off candy?” Alice asked hopefully.

“No—Unfortunately,” Sharon added, glancing at her servant, who rolled his eyes, eating another piece, “We both get the rewards of the wager, but no one gets the punishment.”

“More in the Christmas spirit, wouldn’t you agree, Ojousama?” he said between candy crunches.

“Since when do you care about ‘Christmas spirit’?!” Gilbert demanded.

“Better luck next year, I guess,” Oz tried to put a positive spin on it.

“Next year?!” Alice fumed, “I want to settle this now!” (Gilbert held Alice by the neck of her jacket.)

“Believe me,” Reim grunted, eyeing Break, “it’ll only end worse for you,”

“Who knows?” Break shrugged, “There may not be a next year, Oz-kun.”

Alice continued to seethe while the others glanced at each other, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

“There you go again,” Reim scolded. “You can’t just mention something like that!”

Break dismissed him with a wave of his hand, chuckling to himself, and muttering something about his uptightness, as he made his way down the hall to the kitchens.

After Break left, Oz looked down at his hand, opening his fingers to reveal the little clay, painted oddity he was still holding. Alice came behind him and looked over his shoulder at it.

“What…is it?”

“You didn’t know what you were looking for?!” Gilbert questioned.

“Because you never told me, Seaweed-head!”

Gilbert looked away, clearly wanting to bite back, but without argument with which to do so.

Oz shook his head, staring at it. It was rather crudely made, ineptly painted. But he couldn’t mistake it for anything else—and Gil had been right, he did know it when he saw it.

Because he was the one who made it.

“I can’t believe you kept this, Gil.”

Gilbert looked away, nodding and turning red.

Now he understood why Gilbert was so intent on getting it back. This ornament had probably become a symbol to Gilbert—much like Shelly’s stocking on the mantelpiece was for Break and Sharon—for Oz himself. This ornament, through the years, had probably become tied to his faithful valet’s unending hope that his master would come back. Each year Break took it, as if teasing that perhaps he wouldn’t (and, maybe this was his roundabout way of him trying to prepare him for that), but Gilbert always got it back, as if displaying that he would never lose that hope.

“Oy! What is it?!” Alice demanded again, upset her ‘manservant’ wasn’t focusing all his attention on her.

“It’s a bird, Alice,” Oz answered simply.

“Really, how do you figure?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t look very good does it?” Oz laughed.

“Seaweed-head, why would a crappy ornament like this be your favorite?”

“Oy! You don’t see me criticizing your bad taste!”

“Bad taste?! I have impeccable taste! I eat meat every day!”

“That’s not what—”

“Its because I made it for him,” Oz answered her question quietly.

“You?” Alice laughed, slapping him on the back, “You have pretty poor skills, Oz.”

“Give me a break! I was a kid!”

Oscar laughed, walking up to them, “You’re still a kid, Oz. Yes…I can’t remember how old he was, but he made me, Ada, and Gilbert ornaments,” he laughed a little, putting his arm around Gilbert, “I remember how offended Gil was at his master making him a gift.”

“Yeah,” Oz laughed, they all looked up at Gil, who got steadily redder the more they spoke, “We had to force him to accept it.”

“Why are you surprised he kept his, Onii-chan?” Ada asked, “Uncle and I kept ours. They’re back at the Vessalius manor. But! we could bring them over here if you want!”

“That’s okay, I believe you! Still… Like Alice said, they don’t look very good.”

“But, like you said, you were the one who made them for us,” Oscar ruffled his nephew’s hair.

“What were the ornaments you made for them, Oz?” Alice asked.

“Well, I made Ada a little cat, and uncle Oscar a camera. I didn’t really know what Gil liked, so I just made him a bird. Funny, how your chain is Raven now.”

“How come you haven’t made me one, Manservant?!” Alice hit Oz on the head.

“Hey! I’ve been busy!” he rubbed the spot where she hit him.

“In any case,” Alice turned to Gilbert, jumping quickly to the next subject, “now you can make my meat, Seaweed-head!”

“Break’s using the kitchen, Stupid Rabbit!”

“Then let’s go to the market! I’m starving!”

Gilbert sighed into his hand, “Fine. Let me get my hat and coat.”

“Can I come with you guys?” Ada asked—Alice looked peeved, but Gil and Oz had already welcomed her.

“I’ll go check if Break needs anything!” Oz ran off towards the kitchen.

As Oz arrived, he saw that Break had changed out of his white coat and purple shirt into more casual closing—likely so he wouldn’t ruin his normal outfit. He had rolled up the sleeves, and was wearing a pink apron Gil sometimes wore when he cooked for them here, but which probably belonged to Sharon’s grandmother, or mother. He had already begun to make a mess of things; flour was all over the counter, chocolate was on the walls, somehow there were even ingredients in in his hair.

“You need some help?” Oz asked, half-jokingly.

Break looked up.

“Oz-kun,” he noted, then grinned, “You? Help me? Gotten bored of Gilbert-kun, and Alice-kun already?”

“Nah. I just wanted to know if you needed anything. We’re going to the store.”

Oz knew that Break could have asked for help from the staff, or Gilbert, but Sharon called him ‘Mr. One-Man-Show’ for a reason; sure, it might not taste or look all that good, but at least he would have made it himself.

“You really think I wouldn’t have come prepared?”

“But, if you won, you wouldn’t have to make—”

Oz gasped. Realizing something:

They both had bought the supplies ahead of time. Oz thought one of them would have to go to the store, depending on who won the bet, (perhaps dragging the other begrudgingly along), but they both had already bought the necessary ingredients. Which meant, either the food one of them bought would go to waste, or be used in some other way, or, regardless of who won or lost, they still intended to give each other the gifts.

“You already had the ingredients,” Oz thought out loud. “and Sharon-chan already had your candy...”

“So?”

“I would have thought one of you would have to go to the store, depending on who won.”

“What’s your point, Oz-kun?” Break pushed his hair back.

Oz shook his head, grinning like he now had some secret information. “Break, you really are a nice guy, aren’t you?”

Break put his hand on the table, turning to him, “Wipe that cheeky grin off your face before I do it for you.”

Oz put his hands behind his back, sauntering closer.

“Oh, nothing,” he whistled, “Just that, well, you do this every year, don’t you? Sharon likes to give you a taste of your own medicine if you lose, but you both use this an excuse to give each other extra gifts, don’t you? I bet it was your idea in the first place.”

“How do you know we weren’t planning to use the supplies in some other way?”

“Because you’re not considerate enough to let others use your stuff,” he grinned, “Didn’t you just say there would be punishment in store if I got your candy?”

“Well,” he smirked at Oz’s discovery, twirling the spoon in his hand, “‘nice’ would be stretching it. But maybe occasionally I’m not a complete ‘jerk.’”

Oz grinned. That was all the confirmation he needed.

As if he were brandishing a sword, Break flicked chocolate on Oz’s face with the spoon, “Now get out of here.”

Oz rolled his eyes.

“Good luck, Break!”

With that he exited the room, and ran to the front door to catch up with Gil, Ada, and Alice, who were gathered there, waiting for him.

“Break doesn’t need anything!” he called to them, “Let’s go!”

At first it may have seemed like a waste of time, but, in the end, Oz realized; an afternoon playing a game, learning that after ten years Gil had still cherished the small gift he had once been reluctant to accept, seeing how Sharon and Break found ways to bring each other joy, spending time with his friends, spending time with his real family, would never be a waste of an afternoon for him.

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nutty1005 · 4 years

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Xiao Zhan: It’s Your Turn

Translator’s Note: This article comes from VogueMe Magazine 2020 Feb Issue.

Currently, the trend in the entertainment business is to get famous overnight, the statistics dictate everything – a drama, a variety show, a song… all of which could give birth to a super idol, fame, commercial value and opportunities that come along with it. In 2019, the drama “The Untamed”, adapted from an internet novel, became this window of opportunity. This is the story of a young man who received the opportunity. And like other idols created by their era, his fanbase grew immensely, radiating throughout the youth, his name etched in time. All of these simply points to this – it’s now Xiao Zhan’s turn.

The summer of 2015, Xiao Zhan had not yet realized that he was going to job switch from the design firm opened by his teacher. The teacher did not feel so as well – as Xiao Zhan left for the talent search variety show, he told him, “Go play, come back to work once you’ve been eliminated.”

The show was called “X-FIRE”, and positions itself as a large scaled youth talent development inspirational show. During broadcast, the description says “16 secretly trained youths painstakingly selected from a few thousand 16-24 year olds”. At that time, Xiao Zhan was 23 years old – nearing the upper age limit.

Xiao Zhan just wanted to “play around a bit”. He felt that he would be just touring for a round, and he would be back after a week. As the former class Cultural Committee Member in his university, Xiao Zhan loved singing, won quite a few inter-school cultural activities awards, but never trained in dance-singing. Xiao Zhan, who graduated in graphic design, learnt drawing since young, but never thought of becoming an artist, because “it is hard to survive as an artist, you still need to earn a living”. He was willing to lead a simple life and go to work everyday, with a direct and clear life plan – as a graphic designer, do his work well, then open his own firm.

The summer 4 years later, the name “Xiao Zhan” meant a lot of different things – a member of a pop group, the lead actor of one of the most popular drama, the owner of a Weibo account with more than 22million followers, or as what Chinese entertainment business puts it – a “top traffic”. The topics and imagery surrounding him includes – Xiao Zhan’s looks, Xiao Zhan’s design talent, Xiao Zhan’s professionalism, Xiao Zhan’s role as Wei Wuxian…

And like the other idols who broke out in this era, he has his own set of records – moderators of Bilibili (a video hosting site in China) nagged that his drama fans uploaded so much of his videos that they “almost see him 800 times a day”, Xiao Zhan was jokingly proclaimed as “The Man who caused the Bloodbath of Bilibili”; he became the cover person of a magazine, and the two mobile sales platform app broke down consecutively on the day of the sales; his popularity in 2020 only got higher – on 9 Jan, according to Tian Mao statistics (TN: Taobao eShopping Mall), the Portrait magazine, where he was the cover person, sold out 100,000 copies in 3 seconds, overall sales exceeding 13million Chinese yuan, a poster was spread all around the internet with the accompanying text “a fandom that brought paper media back from its grave” – this is the Xiao Zhan statistics.

But different from the breakout idols, Xiao Zhan did not encounter major controversies (TN: This was published early Feb), and his career did not seem to go through much fluctuations. He never thought that he would be at this point – “Sometimes you’re not ready, but life has already pushed you to ahead. What you can do is to quickly keep up with the pace.” He is now at the stage where any of his actions are “studied under a magnifying glass”, but he feels that his stress levels are not as high as his previous few years, “the past few years, I had the drive but nowhere to use that, now I know how to work hard.”

During the initial auditions, Xiao Zhan still continued to work as per normal, go onstage – sing – leave, which was quite fun. After the selection down to 32 persons, he did not think much of it, and left his work to go to Beijing to practice the dance for the variety show. After the selection down to 16 persons, he practiced everything – dancing, vocals and flexibility training.

He did not think much of what would happen later. The winter in Beijing was especially cold, after the show recording, it would be around 3am or 4am, and there would be fans waiting for him outside of the studio – Xiao Zhan felt quite sorry for them, “All are young girls, it’s so cold and so dark.” He felt surreal having fans. When the 16 of them went to Zhejiang TV “Running 2016” New Year Eve performance, he saw the stage and felt that it was especially big and he was especially happy, and kept making sure he remembered the moves so as not to make any mistakes. After the final battle, Xiao Zhan’s team lost, but he and a few of his teammates were rescued by fan votes.

In 2016, Xiao Zhan debuted as part of X-Nine. During the signing of the contract, Xiao Zhan finally realized that he was going to make a career switch. “When you look at it now, 23 year old is also still a child, but no one took me as a child then.” – Xiao Zhan was the oldest in the group, he made his own decision to sign the contract, he thought that if it did not work out, he could go back to work, there was no need for him to paint himself into a corner.

3½ years after his debut, Artist Xiao Zhan still had to explain to interviewers his obsession with going to work. That day, he had a pimple on the left side of his face, and the makeup artist was applying essences on his face. The makeup room was simply a curtained area in the basement of the Art Gallery, full of passing staff, the editor was discussing the shooting schedule with his manager, the stylist was here delivering clothes, and he sat there with his eyes closed, allowing others to apply whatever it is on his face.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes are long, and also wide, he is very fair and his side profile is graceful and beautiful. With his looks, one would imagine that his personality would be cooler, more introvert, with mild melancholy, like those prince-like male leads in romantic dramas. But his personality does not really match his looks – he is serious, disciplined, he does not talk much initially, but overall he is a relaxed person, and quite funny occasionally.

“A lot of art students do not want to go to work,” the interviewer said. Xiao Zhan learnt drawing since young, some of his happiest moments in his childhood would be to win drawing awards or to have his works praised by his teachers, other unimportant happy moments includes had a good lunch, went to an amusement park, or had a liking for a girl in high school.

“They never went through the society school of hard knocks,” Xiao Zhan said. He described himself as someone who went through “quite a fair bit of knocking”. Since young, his father thought him to be independent, taught him budgeting, and told him stories about Bill Gates’s children… “I wanted to say, god, you’re not Bill Gates.” Despite all these, Xiao Zhan stopped using his parents’ money ever since his university graduation.

Xiao Zhan not only learnt drawing, he also learnt violin, go and Chinese calligraphy… pushed him to study in “National Key” middle school, “National Key” high school (TN: National Key refers to the top range of schools in China). He was an obedient child, but as a standard art student, Xiao Zhan was better in humanity subjects, and his math was not good, hence all the while he had always been the mid-bottom of the pack, which worried his family of 3 quite a fair bit.

Studying graphic design in university, Xiao Zhan felt that his university life was quite comfortable – everyday before class he would adjust himself a bit, although in the end it seemed like it did not work well after all, but at least his results were decent. Xiao Zhan emphasized that he was “definitely not the school hottie”. He was a good student. After he had learnt what the teachers taught, he started a studio on the side. The design studio would take on poster and logo design work; the photography studio only have 3 persons, Xiao Zhan did the photo taking, the other 2 did lighting. Before graduation he went to intern in a design firm, hence it was easy for him to find a job. Within a year of working, his monthly salary was around 4,000 to 5,000 Chinese Yuan, which would quite alright for Chongqing at that point in time.

Being part of a boy group releasing albums, shooting web dramas. The way to do things right was quite different from his previous job – his characterization in the group is a warm guy, although Xiao Zhan did not like characterization, he seriously fulfilled his role, and he was obedient. When someone in the variety show suggested that he lose some weight, he replied “I’m quite thin already I still have to lose weight”. As a commoner, Xiao Zhan was 183cm and 150lbs, his mother would always say he was too thin, and he felt so himself as well. That person showed him the film, “the camera lens is a really scary thing, I literally looked like a ball”. It was not easy for Xiao Zhan to lose weight, so he did it brutally. He was so hungry that he dreamed that he was eating. Xiao Zhan is now 127lbs, but this was not his thinnest.

“How was it like after debut?” “Unoccupied.” (TN: Xiao Zhan used the Chinese phrase “picking at his feet” to describe the state of emptiness.) Xiao Zhan’s words were paced and gentle, most were caught unawares by the sudden switch to casual humor, he might not be laughing, after others laughed he would continue his conversation seriously.

After his debut, he felt that he was freer than the times when he was still an intern. But he did not allow himself to stay free, he took vocal and dancing lessons, making sure that he could do sing-dancing to the best of his abilities. But he was still a bit lost – when he was still a designer, his future was clear and straight, but after his debut he had no clue where his future led to.

“I could count the number of dramas I’ve acted in with my fingers,” Xiao Zhan said. After which, he started counting them – “Battle through the Heavens”, “The Wolf”, “Oh! My Emperor”, “The Untamed”, “Joy of Life”, “Jade Dynasty”, “The Oath of Love”… the earliest work “Super Star Academy” was not counted – It was shot with his boy group, he was still fat, and he had no clue what he was doing.

Acting was his own idea. When he started auditioning he had not even attended any performance classes, he saw the director, took a piece of paper that indicated the scene and lines, and just went for it. Xiao Zhan did not feel that it was awkward, it was something he wanted to do, so he would do so without any inhibitions, and grasp every opportunity to do so. Singing was something that he always liked, his first single after debut was a song voted by his fans. With the stage and his fans, with attention, he would always want to do it better. Acting was something totally foreign to him.

The first turning point was “The Wolf”. When auditioning, within 2 hours, Xiao Zhan had tried many roles – the bounty hunter who was threatening someone, the prince whose brother was about to be executed… Xiao Zhan won the role of the bounty hunter – the 4th character on the character roll, Ji Chong. During the pre-shoot training he was still acting in “Battle through the Heavens”, daytime he would be shooting, nighttime he would be having performance classes. He did not feel it was tough then, as long as he had time to sleep. “Work is something I am willing to do, I will only feel very motivated, tomorrow must be done better than today.” Xiao Zhan liked Wei Wuxian, felt that he was vivid. When acting, during the first month he would be second guessing himself everyday, is the portrayal accurate? Would the audience accept it? Xiao Zhan checked with the director everyday. After a month, he stopped asking, he felt that he was Wei Wuxian. Dramas adapted from web novels are rarely positively received, his hopes for Wei Wuxian was that “I hope people would not dislike the character because of my acting”.

The summer of 2019, the drama aired, and the real turning point arrived.

Billions of fans, frequent trending topics on Weibo, appearing on multiple magazine covers and even causing the sales platform app to crash…

He is one of the few artists in Weibo that sets his account as “only posts in the past 6 months are viewable”, but it did not affect his popularity. His interaction with his fans are witty, the statistics are more than enough to attract attention. Last year on the Chinese Valentine’s Day (TN: 7th of the 7th Lunar month), he posted a photo informing his fans that he had put on weight, his pants folded up, legs in the swimming pool. One of his fans replied, “Fine, good to know that your leg hairs are doing fine.” This reply was boosted to the top with 190,000 likes.

“After watching ‘The Untamed’ and ‘Joy of Life’ and then meeting you, I feel like you are very similar to your performance method, calm. You are like an AI, whatever you do you’re especially precise.” “You’re highly professional.” The interviewer concluded.

At the start of the conversation, Xiao Zhan just finished an exterior photo shoot, we were both seated, leaning forward and warming hands above the radiator. He said, “Artist is just a job, I don’t like artists to place themselves on a pedestal, just like today you are the reporter who is interviewing me, today I am someone being interviewed. Cooperation, is just so that we can complete our jobs, coming in for the photo shoot is my job today, every single staff is also executing this job, it’s just the role is different.” Because he went through the society “school of hard knocks”, he respected and understood the truth behind teamwork.

As someone who once had to face clients, he knew how it felt as someone at the receiving end of endless unreasonable requests, and therefore he did not want to be someone like that. His standards for work is consistent – high efficiency, good results, everyone is happy, no one has to serve another person. Also “once I am done I will knock off, after I knock off no one should come find me, let me be alone.”

“Everyone works to fulfill their needs, they have entertainment after they knock off, they have freedom and privacy. As a public figure, artist, the product is yourself, the works are also yourself. You have to output materials, contribute works, and then gain the opportunity to grow, for higher social status, value and better lifestyle. For some people, besides their career, they also included their dreams,” the interviewer said.

“The understanding is very thorough. You win some, you lose some, after becoming a public figure it meant that there are multiple pairs of eyes staring at you, anything you do would be judged. Whether it is positive or misguided. Truth and falsehoods, isn’t this circle just like this? Whether the rumors or the gossip is true or false, who knows?” Xiao Zhan said.

On 5 Jan 2020, Xiao Zhan was working in a sculpture garden in Shanghai Songjiang, shooting a series of photographs to be the cover of VogueMe. It was cold, the gallery’s doors were open, and the wind blew from the first floor to the basement. Everyone was wearing winter jackets.

In the morning, beside the metal sculpture on the first floor, Xiao Zhan and model Chen Yu faced the camera separately. As the shutters rolled, they did not exchange glances or touch each other. As the photographer requested the model to sit on the ground, Xiao Zhan said his only sentence to her, “Careful your head.” and used his hands to shield her head from the protruding portion of the sculpture.

That day’s Weibo opening advertisement was also Xiao Zhan. As per the photographer’s request, he tilted his head up slightly and gave a cold gaze, or side glancing a faraway place, but also at the same time, he was smiling sweetly on mobile phone screens, promoting a series of instant food products.

In the afternoon, the team went to the exterior, to a concrete sculpture beside the gallery entrance, where he and the model stood in front of, facing the camera. The arm was on the model’s shoulders, and the two of them looked at the camera – he was even thinner than the model. In yet another set, the staff erected a ladder to one of the rooftop grass patches on the gallery buildings. An ice cold rock slab was selected, which the assistant padded using a jacket, and tested the light levels. After which, it was Xiao Zhan’s turn. He was wearing a red jacket with blue shirt, wearing a baseball cap, lying on his side on the rock slab, supporting his head with his arm. In between shoots, the assisted would hand him a long wool top, with deep blue diamond checks, quite thin. The top was flipped over, he slipped his hands into the sleeves to protect the front of his body, his assistant handed over another water bottle that contained warm mineral water to warm his hands. Xiao Zhan basically did not speak, he placed the bottle on his neck to gain some warmth.

An artist’s job, the profession included losing weight, staying hungry, freezing and staying up overnight, wearing winter clothes in summer is the norm, not drinking water prior to any shoots to prevent water bloating on screen… people who do those well may become famous, if they look good or are lucky they may become even more famous. Now Xiao Zhan has an opportunity, and like his previous job, he chose to be down-to-earth and do it well.

In the evening, the green screens were setup in basement 2 of the gallery. 17:44, Xiao Zhan was in position, his manager reminded the stylist to take note of the clothes’ proportion – “The sweater is too long.” Hence, the sweater was folded up. After the camera assistant brought down the Apple machines, the cameraman adjusted his machines, and started shooting the video. Quite a few scenes were done in one take, in the middle there was a break, the manager and the camera crew were discussing camera positions. This was the 10th hour of the shoot, Xiao Zhan sat behind the table, laid his head on a prop gift box and waited quietly – we could not see if he was tired or not.

The shoot ended, and the sky was already dark. Xiao Zhan has not yet knocked off. The media had ended their work, the manager was darting around, arranging for Xiao Zhan to change out and get on his car, to rush to his rehearsal that night – they were already behind schedule. Both teams bid their farewell, Xiao Zhan warm and gentle, still unclear whether he was tired. After less than an hour’s journey, he would need to go onstage to sing, and thereafter, his work would be to complete the costume testing of 20 different sets of clothes.

The Initial Cold

The time set for the shoot was 9am, Xiao Zhan arrived at the rural set at 8.30am. His overnight flight arrived only the day before, meeting Xiao Zhan on the cold morning of a deep southern winter, his spirits looked great, his face having the same kindness as usual. The endless job schedules taught him how to conserve his energy – no casual conversation, not even to his staff; take every opportunity to eat or rest; absolutely no procrastination, ensure efficiency, do his best to accommodate and complete every job. He is a highly disciplined and professional artist.

In this shoot, the warm, gentle smiles have been replaced by cold, sharp glares, the metal and concrete sculptures gave him a few minutes of inner emotions and narrative, his scenes with the model was almost like he was acting in the set of “Last Year at Marienbad”. Xiao Zhan displayed emotions and charm very different from usual self – this is the power of an actor. The darker filters and monochrome imagery restored the caution that the youth of his age would have, it was the concealed feelings of a sunny boy. With such an idol, not only he can warm your hearts, there are still much to expect from him.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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sometimesrosy · 3 years

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I haven’t come to your blog in quite some time... after t100 ended, I lost interest in tumblr for a while. But I was active here once, and we had many a discussion. I came to see if you enjoyed bridgerton, despite the not so accurate clothing and such. I think it’s super cheesy and really fun to watch, and I know you enjoy period dramas

Yeah, I’m still here-- mainly because I work online, so when I break from work I make the rounds of my social media, and tumblr is one of them. It’s less active here because the fandom has mostly disappeared, not that I blame people. I also have a hard time posting about the positive aspects of The 100 because it just imploded so spectacularly. Still a big disappointment.

BUT

I have moved on. I was honestly ready to be done with intense fandom, because it’s just not good for my mental health and I was tired of the negativity. I don’t understand why people get angry when other people enjoy a thing, and think they have to come in and ruin it for them. Like, buzz off, we’re working on coping skills to get through our dumpster fire lives.

AND YES I love Bridgerton.

Actually, I love the book series Bridgerton and it was one of my favorites in the last couple of years.

And this is related to my The 100 fandom experience, because for a while, I wasn’t reading books, I was only reading bellarke fanfic, but then, due to a shift in the fanfic community and my discomfort with the fandom (knowing that a lot of them didn’t like me) I began to feel weird about reading and writing fanfic. Like when I liked someone’s story, was I giving kudos to someone who bullied me on anon? I didn’t know. And at the same time I’d begun ghostwriting romances, so to do research, I started reading published romances.

The first one I read was a secret baby trope, because that was what I was writing, and I fell into historical fiction. I read Kleypas and Dare and Milan and Maclean and yes, Quinn. That took the place of my fanfic reading. To be honest, I wouldn’t have been able to be a ghostwriter if I hadn’t been a fanfic writer first, because, even though I have writing education and training and experience, fanfic taught me to write for audience, to do it fast without that certain...anxiety about perfectionism, and immersed me in romantic tropes, which it turns out, I really love.

This is a lot of chit chat to say that yes, I saw Bridgerton and I love Bridgerton.

I would suppose that historical romances have taken the place of my the 100 obsession. I read probably one a day. I should keep track on goodreads or something, but I do a lot of rereading. Like I’ll reread a beloved book or series five or six times. And when I forget the details of ones I liked, I’ll reread those too. Also I’m probably dealing with my internalized snobbery about the romance genre. Let me tell you, getting an education in creative writing in college installs some “issues” with genre. Everything is supposed to be lit fic, or it’s lesser. I’ve been kind of pugnacious about the sff genre and haven’t let the snobbery interfere with my love of it, but I haven’t gotten over the romance snobbery, which is not JUST snobbery but also internalized misogyny.

But I mean, fuck it. I am so sick of grimdark and tragedies and “cool edgy” dudes thinking women should be destroyed and tortured and betrayed in movies and sff and fiction in general.

I don’t WRITE historical romances. I write contemporary romances for my ghostwriting gigs (I have one client and I’ve written like 18 novels and novellas for her in the last two years. It’s fun, but it doesn’t make very much money and the deadlines are VERY tight.) However I don’t READ contemporary romances, I read historicals. I like the level of fantasy involved and the distance from reality when I read it, but I am bothered too much buy the imperial colonialism and classism of regency or victorian british settings to write it. Also, that would take so much research to write to my liking. I am involved in romancelandia (romance writing twitter,) but not very active. Mostly I just listen and learn and sometimes comment.

In fact. I follow a woman who judges regency and victorian costuming in film productions. https://twitter.com/BillAndTedTest She has not gotten around to doing Bridgerton yet.

How do I feel about the costuming??? Well, I’m divided. I am bothered by the fact that Daphne never wears a pelisse and always has half up hair. I am bothered by the fact that Simon almost never has his cravat tied properly and has a shockingly bare neck. And the fabrics and stitching are visibly cheap.

But I also feel that except for the cheap fabrication which was an element of budget and time, a lot of the design choices were stylistic in nature. Like, if you look at the background characters, I feel that their costumes were more accurate, but with the main characters, they really went for character over accuracy. They didn’t want Daphne in any of the buttoned up outfits because they wanted her to be a girlish, romantic ingenue. They wanted Simon to show as a dashing sexy rake, so the buttoned up thing wouldn’t work for him, and they gave him the open neck that would be more appealing to a contemporary audience. (although while Simon is very handsome I actually find Anthony more sexy. He’s buttoned up...but it’s holding back all passion inside. BUT THAT’S a story for season 2. I can’t wait. I liked book 2 better than 1 mostly because of the rape, tbh. But I also love books 4,6 and 7 and I don’t know if we’ll get there.)

They wanted Lady Featherington to be crass and pushy so they gave her a nonsensical victorian silhouette. I mean. ???? It was SO different from anyone else’s. Weird choice, but for the character it kind of makes her appear to be a more aggressive character type from LATER in time? IDK. Of course Penelope is canonically dressed in awful gowns that are not flattering and I’m looking forward to how they end up dressing her for her book. And praying that we get a season 4. But I mean, the costume choices for the Featheringtons are BASED on Lady F’s bad taste, so there’s some leeway with her not being in style.

So. That is A LOT when you asked a little question. I guess I wanted to talk about it. I’m not allowed to talk about my ghostwriting or the stories I’m writing because I signed a hushhush contract. I’m not accustomed to being in a fandom for reading books-- remember I only joined fandom in the last 5 years for The 100, and then had some bad experiences so didn’t get into other fandoms. I don’t really even know how it would work especially not MULTIPLE books and authors instead of one series, so I haven’t really had conversations about the historical romances, except for a bit of twitter discussion.

#bridgerton #historical romance #reading #writing romance #book geek

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ladylunasolis · 4 years

Text

Zutara Week 2020 - Day 1 “Reunion”

This is my first ever work for Zutara and ATLA - also my first work of any kind in years. Zutara has always been one of my OTPs and the re-watching the show reminded me how much I love the ship. We only had so many episodes to see them together...but this fandom keeps them alive. This is a more Zuko-centric piece, as I really like to wonder about his POV. Please enjoy “Reunion!”

Rating: G

It has been almost two years after the war had ended. There were some things Zuko had a more challenging time with as new Fire Lord. One was weeding out the Ozai loyalists in his councils. Second was smiling so much. He barely got used to that when he was with the rest of the gang. Of course, he didn’t necessarily need to smile but with the right people, it helped. He was initially a bit rusty with economics but with Iroh’s occasional visits and reading recommendations, Zuko made great progress.

Another area for growth was replying to the numerous gifts and letters he received from dignitaries throughout the world. After one round of answering letters took over an hour in a chair (he insisted he reply himself to make things more personal) he realized he was not quite there yet. Zuko tended to think better while pacing so he employed a transcriber.

As many things were challenging, there were many things Zuko did well. Some of these strengths include memorizing the names of his servants and being able to take into consideration the viewpoints of the needy/working class. He was for the people. He was open to hearing input, though did not hesitate to tell someone when their words were disrespectful. Although he was awkward, kids liked to talk to him. He was great at international relations.

And he always, always replied to Katara within 2 days - in his own writing.

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of Hakoda, waterbending master, ambassador. The girl who saved his life. Not too long after his coronation ceremony she had left to fix the rest of the world, alongside Avatar Aang. In the months that passed her departure, every time he closed his eyes he would see hers. He would see those deep blue eyes peering down at him, the first thing he would see after Azula’s attack. He remembered how they brimmed with tears. He remembered that not even the blue of Azula’s fire or hell, the blue of Azula’s lighting, could compare to the blue of Katara’s eyes.

He had wanted to say it, wanted to ask her if he was crazy to think there was something there because she felt it too right? A few days had passed after the pomp and circumstance of the coronation. She was checking to make sure he was healing well, her glowing hands running over his exposed stomach, making his abs contract.

“So...” Katara started off shyly. She had a blush on her cheeks and a small smile, but did not meet his eye. This was it, Zuko thought. This is the moment!

“I think me and Aang are going to give this a shot. I mean this, like, me and him. Together.” She became very flustered and brought the water back to the bowl, looking to see if any drops had fell though he damn well knew that wasn’t possible. Silence came over the two of them, except for the roaring of Zuko’s heartbeat in his ears.

He was unsure how much time has passed until Katara started to shift and stand up, brushing off invisible lint. “Okay well you’ve healed past anything serious, it’ll just be some pain—.”

“Thank you.” Zuko tied his shirt and stood up as well. He towered over Katara, who was looking down, playing with her hair. Zuko was definitely aware of the pain he would be feeling, now and for a long time coming. But it wasn’t from the agni kai. The next words kind of just came out on their own.

“Are you happy?”

Katara looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, with a small smile. She kept eye contact for a moment, which made Zuko wonder if she was searching for something in his own eyes. Then the moment passed. “I am! I really am.”

Zuko felt the urge to say more, but another thought crossed his mind. Who was he to get in the way of her happiness? He saved her life and almost sacrificed his own, sure, but Aang had done just the same. Aang was a good kid. Aang would protect her. Aang is in love with her... With Zuko, he wasn’t even completely sure yet how he felt - he just knew that he wanted her around. But that wasn’t enough to keep her from love. So Zuko cleared his throat and returned the soft smile, placing a hand on Katara’s shoulder.

“I’m really glad.” And he meant it.

He watched her leave a few days later, after hugging both her and Aang, wishing them both safe travels and letting them know they were welcome any time. Zuko could distinctly remember standing on the palace steps long after the air bison had disappeared into the horizon. To distract himself from regrets, he buried himself in work. It was effective about 90% of the time.

Zuko would also still see Mai, and though he felt a familiarity for her it wasn’t the same as what he felt for Katara - whatever that was. He would spend time with Mai when he could, try to get things back to where they were before he left to join the gang, but his mind would wander. To the argument they had on Ember Island “At least I feel something!” Or to brilliant blue. The kisses and touches he shared with Mai paled next to what stirred within him when Katara merely said his name.

Then the letters started arriving.

The letters started a little more than two months after Katara and Aang left. They would come once a month, or two if they were closer. They started off with many “we went to” “we met with” “we did.” After another seven or eight months it was mostly Katara writing about her day and asking about Zuko’s day.

The fruit in the Earth kingdom are great, but I still like the Fire Nation’s better. Especially that one that’s soft and yellow in the middle. I forgot the name. But nothing beats sea prunes! You have to try some next time you come here.

Despite Mai’s lack of expression, Zuko knew she was very perceptive. Try as hard as he could, he wasn’t able to ever give her all of his attention. If he was honest, he would say he was almost desperate to forget Katara but it wasn’t fair to Mai to use her for that. Zuko opened his mouth to say something one day and she put a hand up to stop him.

“I get it. I don’t want to fight about it, but I never want to speak to you again either.” That stung, because in a way she was pretty much his only friend in the nation, but he knew it must have hurt her worse. And so he buried himself completely in work and firebending training.

A year after the war ended and peace had begun, a conference was held at the Fire Nation palace. It was decided the leaders of each nation would come together to encourage international coordination and morale between the nations. Zuko had fought against those Ozai-loyalists daily to combat the ideals that the Fire Nation was the best of all. He had advocated diligently to open their eyes to how the other nations work, to be able to learn from them, and to share the Fire Nation’s ways without having to over their land.

Plus, it would be a good chance to see his friends again.

On the day of the Conference of Peace Zuko awoke even earlier than usual and went through some of his firebending forms. He felt jittery, shaky, alert. But he was excited. Him, Zuko, excited! He was sitting in the conference chamber an hour before the meeting started that day. It had been too long since he had seen Katara. Is she taller? Is her hair done in the same way? Will she still smile when she sees me?

Then the nerves set in. Am I taller? Am I fitting into my royal robes well enough? Wait, are the royal robes too much? I know Katara’s not the type to—. He had to shake his head quickly, before his thoughts ran away with him. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s with Aang. So stupid.”

When Sokka came announced as Water Tribe Ambassador, Zuko had to grit his teeth to curb his initial reaction. Sokka was charming and cheerful as usual. “What’s up, Fire Lord? I’m here reppin’ the Water Tribe!” He wrapped an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and leaned into him.

“H-Hey, Sokka,” Zuko managed. He cleared his throat. “It’s great to see you. Uh where’s Katara?”

“Oh yeah, so right before she was gonna leave I guess almost all of the village got sick with something they haven’t seen before. Katara had been healing for days but it’s something that needs multiple treatments or something. Wait, you didn’t get a letter? Well I guess I got here before the letter since I’ve been traveling closer with Suki.”

At this point they heard the unmistakable groan of an air bison and Aang landed Appa in the square, and from far away they could see his arm up and waving. Everyone will remember that first conference as one where Fire Lord Zuko was informative, but his expression hardly changed the entire time. Some would say he was even a little surly.

Zuko caught up with Sokka and Aang and while it was truly great to see them, he couldn’t help but wonder where Katara’s letter was. As curious as he was about her, he wasn’t going to bombard her brother and her boyfriend for information. Sure enough, he had found her letter at the end of the second day.

I’m so sorry Zuko, my people need me. Even though people are recovering it’s taking multiple rounds of healing for each person and I’m the only one who can heal at this pace. By the time you read this Sokka will probably have told you already. But I just wanted you to know I really did want to see youand everyone.

The last words seemed to be scribbled together, like she had an afterthought to add “and everyone” over where she originally placed a period after “you.” I’m probably just imagining it - the thought flooded Zuko’s mind, but he was able to sit up late and respond.

You’re right, Sokka did get to me first. But don’t worry, your people come first and I’m wishing them all a quick recovery. They have a great healer there after all, Master Katara. Zuko paused, before continuing on. It would have been great to see you, too. Hopefully that will happen some time soon.

After the conference, there were no letters for a month or two. Needless to say, Zuko berated himself. “Scared her off,” he muttered to himself, throwing a towel into a soiled linen basket. He had just finished some training, taking his frustration out on himself. Zuko noted there was a mail delivery and his eyes lit up when he saw the blue water tribe symbol. He opened it eagerly and skimmed through the long letter.

. . . Anyways, I love being home. It’s nice to be with family and wear my furs, though I’ve been growing a bit so I may have to get new ones soon! I’ve been so busy ever since 2 of the kids found out they can waterbend. Being home does sometimes feel different though. I guess it just takes a little getting used to for me to be back here because this is the longest I’ve been home or even 1 place since me and Sokka found Aang. But since Aang and I broke up, I just decided to stay here for a bit. We’re still friends, probably better friends than girlfriend-boyfriend, but thought that the space would be good.

Zuko stopped. “Since Aang and I broke up…” A fire lit within him. He read it over again in disbelief. This was his chance! Finally! He was going to-! Zuko shook himself, and ran a hand over his face, eyes skimming the letter over. “No. Come on, Zuko, she probably doesn’t want to be jumped on after a break up. They were together a while. How long have they been broken up for anyway?”

After some thought, and calming exercises, he picked up a quill. Zuko wrote out the general greetings and response to the daily activities she had in her letter. He hesitated and continued on.

I’m sorry to hear about you and Aang but that’s great you two are still friends. As you know, it doesn’t always end up that way. I’m sure you two will continue working on making the world a better place.

Zuko grimaced as he read his letter over. Before he could change his mind, he rolled the scroll up and went to the aviary.

The letters were different from then on.

I was really missing the turtleducks today! I wonder if those babies are all grown up now! Remember when you first showed them to me? We had so much fun.

The sunsets here are great, but sometimes I think about the sunsets in the Fire Nation. They’re completely opposite but still just as beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing all that I can to help people, or if I should be doing more. I’m doing great work here I know but I’m thinking about traveling again, learning more and bringing that knowledge back home.

Zuko would reply. He started to confide in her his fears and insecurities, in response to her becoming vulnerable with him too.

Those turtleduck babies have gotten bigger, but there are always more born every year. It would be nice to have a picnic by the pond to introduce you to them.

Next time you’re here, you have to see a sunset from my favorite spot. I’ll take you. And you’re right, opposites can both be equally great. Before I got to know you, I never knew water could be so strong and beautiful.

I know how you feel. Even though I’m seeing changes it can feel like I’m still fighting a battle. Sometimes I just get tired, but I just have to keep going. Sometimes broadening our horizons are the best ways to help our people.

The second Conference of Peace was approaching in another two months’ time. Of course, Zuko had invited Katara to be Water Tribe Ambassador once more and he waited with bated breath for her answer.

Zuko, of course I’ll be there! I can’t miss it two years in a row. I actually wanted to let you know, I was thinking of spending time there before the conference. I’m in the Earth Kingdom right now. I traveled here since my last letter, thanks to your encouragement! Since we’ve been talking about the Fire Nation and things I haven’t seen yet, I thought it would be a good chance to do a little bit of that before we have to all talk business. But if it’s not a good idea, or if you’re too busy, I understand.

Zuko, who had been working on the speed of his replies, replied and sent right after he read her letter.

Of course you’re welcome to come. I would love to have you here.

Weeks later, Fire Lord Zuko stood on the docks, staring out to sea. Many citizens were quick to recognize him and Zuko gave each of them a nod of his head or a wave. He knew this was a little odd, but he didn’t care. He was finally going to see Katara again. They had so little time together in person before she had to depart so he didn’t really know what to call his feelings then. All he knew was he cared enough about her to give his life. That had not changed with Zuko, but he now knew what he feels for her now.

He saw Katara on deck, leaning on the railing, before she saw him. Her chestnut hair was partially up, hair loops still in tact. She was wearing a new blue outfit that matched the tan of her skin. And her smile when she saw him was brighter than the sun. He noticed the way she flicked her wrist, and the sudden wave that brought the ship closer even quicker.

She made her way down the dock and Zuko had to remind himself he is the damn Fire Lord, look noble! But he sure as hell still felt like a teenager despite his age making him an official adult now. He wanted to run and hug her but was able to control himself enough to take a few steps towards the smiling waterbender.

“Hi Zuko,” Katara said, and her voice was a song to his ears. Better than any song he ever heard on music night, by far. She smiled up at him, because even though she had grown a little he had grown a lot. “It’s been too long.”

And then he looked into those eyes, just as blue and expressive as he remembered them. They had haunted him in the most tormenting way but now that his eyes were meeting her’s again, all the pain was worth it.

“You’re right, Katara. It has been.” And Zuko smiled, the emotions reaching his golden eyes. His smile was a promise - a promise to show her everything she wanted to see, and that he wasn’t going to take this chance for granted. Not ever again.

Thank you for reading!

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2020 #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #writing #reunion

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krreader · 4 years

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my pleasure.

pairing: kim seokjin x reader fandom: bts warnings: sugar daddy!jin ; mentions of sex genre: fluff ; hints of smut word count: 1.5k+

summary: yes, this was an agreement between you and jin, but sometimes it didn’t feel like it.. it almost felt.. natural.

a/n: aaaah, thank you so much for your request angel, I hope your first request doesn’t let you down ♥

This was such a nice change, waking up to rays of sunshine hitting your face and not your alarm clock while it was still dark outside.

Waking up in silk sheets and not in your old bed sheets that you hadn't washed in a while because you simply didn't have time for that.

Waking up not filled with stress and anxiety, but completely relaxed and happy.

People might judge you for the job you now had, but only because of the prejudices it brought with it. If they knew what kind of life you were living now, you were sure that 90% of them would consider switching to this life too.

Your hand reached out, wanting to feel the warmth of the one that made this all possible, but your hand was only met with coldness instead.

He must have left a while ago.

Forcing yourself to open your eyes and look around, you realised that there was no sight of him whatsoever. The clothes he wanted to wear today were gone, his belongings as well and all you were left with was the faint smell of his cologne.

And as if he had installed cameras here – which you really hoped he didn't, or that would kind of ruin your perfect little fantasy – you got a text from said man that made you smile instantly.

“It was so much fun last night. Thank you for everything.”

You've been doing this for almost a year, he paid you for being his, but not really being his and yet he always thanked you for it.

You quickly prepped up the pillows behind you and let your fingers glide over the letters on your phone.

“I wish you could have stayed a bit longer.. would have loved to go for round two.”

Jin smirked as he was sitting in his make-up chair, quickly sending you a photo with the caption, “I had to leave early so I could look like this, my love.”

Your heart immediately pounded harder in your chest, biting your lip and pulling your phone a little closer, “Ah, so handsome. Just as handsome as you looked last night on top of me, daddy.”

Jin began to squirm in his seat, apologising when he saw his stylist look at him disapprovingly, before quickly and discreetly replying one last time.

“Not while I'm working, baby girl, you know that. I'm going to call when I'm done. Make sure to pick up.”

And with that you knew that the conversation was over.. at least for now.

If anyone were to have a conversation with you about the pro's and con's of your job, you doubted you could name any con's. You were living the best life you've ever lived with minimum effort. Because being with Seokjin, sleeping with Seokjin.. that wasn't something that you had to do, it was something that you genuinely wanted to do.

The first time you slept together wasn't because of an agreement, it was because you had met each other at a party, hit it off and then went home together. It was only afterwards that he suggested this arrangement and you had agreed in a heartbeat. Because why wouldn't you?

Sure, the first thoughts that came into your mind were: is this degrading?

But the more you thought about it, the more you realised.. no. You didn't feel ashamed for doing this. For you this was more pleasure than business after all. Of course, you didn't outright say to your family: “I'm a sugar baby”, but you told them that you were making business with someone very important and that that was the reason you were earning so much nowadays.

You quickly jumped under the shower, then got dressed and ended up going to a nearby café for breakfast.

The reason you went here was because you've been so often at this point that you and one of the girls that worked here have become really good friends.

And she was someone that knew precisely what you were doing for work.

“Ah, I'm so jealous,” she sighed deeply, “I admit, when you first told me about this all, I was judging you really hard, but I realise that it's actually such a good job if you genuinely like the man you're spending time with.”

You smiled sympathetically at her and leaned over the table to put your hand over hers, “I told you that he has a lot of friends that I could introduce you to..”

“You make it sound like a prostitution ring.”

“It's not.. really. Because some of them aren't even looking for sex, they're just looking for a bit of normality. Someone they can have a conversation with that doesn't revolve around their jobs.”

You would never force her to do something that she didn't want to do, but you also knew that she was curious about this lifestyle and if she really wanted to see what it was like, you might as well help her out. And you meant what you said.

This whole business wasn't always about sex.

Take you, for example.

Yes, you did sleep with Jin, but that wasn't what your relationship was about. What he truly needed was someone to listen to him, someone that could just be with him and understand him. Someone that he could feel at home with. You provided all of this.. which is why you got along so well.

For you, sex was just a side activity that you liked to do with each other when you were feeling like it.

The rest of your day was quite uneventful. You just walked around the city some more, went grocery shopping and then went home, putting down your groceries just when your phone started ringing, answering it within the first few seconds.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Are you home?” Jin asked.

“Just got here. I'm about to make dinner.. do you think you can make it within the next hour?”

“I'm ten minutes away, love,” he chuckled, “I'll be right there.”

If you had heard that nine months ago, you would have hurried into the bathroom and would have put a little more effort into your look to impress him.

But you felt so comfortable around him these days, make-up or not.

Might have something to do with the fact that he always complemented you and pushed up your confidence to the sky.

So you just started cooking instead, smiling at him when he entered the kitchen, clearly exhausted.

“Oh, boy,” you chuckled a little, “Hard day, huh?”

“It's just gotten ten times better,” he hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent and gently rocking you from side to side, “I missed you so much, my love.”

And even though this was an agreement, it was easy to forget in moments like these.

It was so domestic.. like he wasn't your sugar daddy, but.. your husband.

“I missed you too.. dinner will be ready soon, so how about you take a quick shower, relax and we have dinner in bed tonight?” you carefully turned around in his arms to look at him.

“You treat me too well,” he kissed your forehead, then did exactly what you just told him to do.

You stared after him for a while, only catching yourself doing so after a few minutes and quickly shaking your head.

Lately, this idea of love wasn't something you could push out of your mind anymore. It was weird, it made you feel fuzzy and you weren't sure if you should feel that way.. not that you could change it.

But Jin.. he acted differently too, so this wasn't just your fault.

The way he acted towards you nowadays, of course you'd start to feel things.. more things, deeper things, for him.

And when you ended up eating in bed later that night, watching shitty TV and him and you talking about the other one's day.. you felt so.. at peace.

Home.

Like this is where you belonged.

“You've been thinking a lot, haven't you?” he whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Is it that obvious?” you smiled a little.

“To me it is.. so tell me. What is it?”

Other people in your situation would be scared to bring up this topic in fear of ruining what they had.. but not you. You felt like the answer you were going to get was exactly what you were hoping for.

“I'm just really happy lately, you know? Here.. with you.. this isn't where I imagined myself to be eventually, but.. I'm glad I ended up here.”

The corner of Jin's mouth curled into a smile, “Go on.”

“I just can't help but wonder.. what the future has in store for us. And.. I mean.. a possible future without contract.”

Jin sat up a little straighter, mostly just to look at you properly, “The only reason I ever set up a contract in the first place was because I needed security because of my job. But I won't always have that job.. and everything that comes after.. I want to share with you.”

“So.. we're on the same page here?”

“I think.. we have been from the start, love.”

And that's probably why it worked out the way it had.

And why it continued to do so for years after.

#bts x reader #bts imagine #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin imagine #seokjin imagine #jin x reader #jin imagine #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #reader #requests

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emperorsfoot · 4 years

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abandoned Star Wars fic #1

This was an AU I started a while back (2014) based off the pre-Disney Buyout version of the Expanded universe. It’s basically just “what if Luke did join the Empire like he was discussing with Owen and Beru back in A New Hope?”

My original plan was for the fic to be a trilogy, following the same main events of the original trilogy. I abandoned it because I got discouraged (for the same reason I always get discouraged when writing fic for a fandom that’s been around since the dawn of time), because the Star Wars fandom is so big and there are so many amazingly talented writers in it that this AU has probably already been written, and probably written better than I could ever write it.

So, I never even posted it.

Until now...

(Oh! Also, it was gonna be a Luke/Mara ship. All my Star Wars fics are Luke/Mara.)

...

[ImpPilot]

Chapter One:

"I'd like three quarters of my pay to go to this account, please. If I can do that." Luke asked.

Even heading strait to the Fleet's financial office immediately after his graduation ceremony instead of going out to celebrate with his bunkmates, it still took an absurd two and a half hours before he could see an actual officer -nothing more than a glorified accountant, really.

"You'll meed to fill out form 6-23-A." Without even looking up from his personal terminal, the financial officer passed Luke a data pad with the blank form already open on it. "You're not the first boy wanting to send money home to his silver-haired mommy. Be sure all the routing numbers are correct and specify whether or not its a savings or checking account, or if its a business account. For business accounts you'll need to fill out an additional form."

"Uh… I think its a domestic checking account…" Luke said. More thinking out loud than actually speaking to the officer. The moisture farm was, technically, a business, but he didn’t think Tattooine was sophisticated enough for business accounts. At least, not reputable ones.

"There's a terminal in the lobby you can use if you need to call home and ask. Regular holo-net fees apply -which this office will not compensate you for." Once again, the financial officer did not look up from his desk.

Right. As if Uncle Owen would even answer. Neither he nor Aunt Beru had answered any of his calls since he left home and signed up with the Fleet.

But they just didn't understand. Luke couldn't spend his life in the day to day routine of moisture farming, watching the rest of the Galaxy turn around him. He wanted to get out and get away. See the world beyond the backwater dust-ball of his childhood and explore brave new worlds in his adulthood. But the Lars hadn't have much money and it wasn't like Luke's late parents (of which very little was spoken of) had seen fit to leave either him or his guardians any money or property of value, there were little avenues or opportunities open to him to get off world. In fact, there were only two possible ways for a poor desert brat like him to get off world.

Join up with a pirate or smugglers crew. Or sign up with the Imperial Space Navy.

So, Luke chose the lesser to two evils.

He signed up for the navy.

At least it was legal.

He went out early the morning of his sixteenth birthday after his mind was made up. Sneaking out of the farm house and into the garage, Luke intended to take the speeder into Anchorhead. Owen was waiting for him in the garage. Intent to stop him. Apparently, his sneaking wasn't too stealthy.

He gave a speech about the stupidity of what he was about to do. That it was foolish and he was just fixing to get himself killed. That he was just like his father -he was a damn fool too!- and that he would just end up hurting everyone else who cared about him. Luke ignored everything his uncle had to say though. His mind was made up and there was nothing Uncle Owen could do to stop him.

Aunt Beru was a bit gentler with him, but still just as disapproving. She met him outside the garage, as he was trying to maneuver the speeder around the complex. She brought him a sandwich lovingly wrapped, as if he were just going out to do maintenance on the vaporators. She asked Luke not to think poorly of his Uncle, he was just trying to protect him. There was a war on and the reason why the Fleet was so eager to lock new recruits into contracts was because they needed more and more bodied every day. That's all he would be to the Navy, just another body to throw into the war.

That time Luke did pause. He placed his hand over hers, resting on the side of the speeder. He assured her that this was something he had to do and that he wouldn't die the death of a nameless soldier. He couldn't explain how or why, but he could feel it. This was something he had to do, and he would not become just another body counted in the war. He would be something.

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say, because a shadow of fear crossed her face. But it was there and gone in the space of a second. She turned her hand, resting under his and grabbed his wrist, stronger than he thought she was capable of. "Don't… don't use the name Skywalker." She said suddenly. "Its a common name out here on the Rim, but it's a dangerous name to have closer to the Empire. Don't enlist under Skywalker. Use our name. Use Lars."

Luke blinked at her. "Why?"

But she didn't answer and he was in to much of a hurry to wait and pester her.

That was the last he ever heard from either of them. Neither his aunt or uncle either called him or returned any of his calls during his time at the Academy. There was no reason to assume they would answer the comm for him now. In fact, Luke wasn't even sure if they would take his money now that he would actually be earning some. But they had raised him. And the farm wasn't easy or cheap to maintain. Maybe with the extra money, his uncle could hire a few more hands to help them out.

Luke just filled out the form the best that he could and handed it back to financial officer.

"Alright, Lars, your request should be processed in another eight to ten standard days. Everything should be in order by the time for first earning statement is payed." He said looking over the datapad. "Oh, and you forgot to fill out your pilot designation."

"Oh. Right, sorry. Its DS-42-6."

The officer began typing as Luke spoke, filling in the missing information on mental auto-pilot. "D… S… -Wait? DS? Death Star? They assigned a green kid like you to the Death Star!?" He gaped up at the kid, actually looking at him for the first time.

"Top pilot in my graduating class." Luke said, not at all ashamed of the pride that seeped into his voice. Being the top flight student was a significant achievement and not even Uncle Owen could deny that. "I guess they wanna deploy their best people on the most important postings."

"What was that number again?"

"Squad forty-two, pilot number six." He answered.

"Well, Luke Lars, I imagine you going far.

…

Most of Luke's bunkmates went out to celebrate their graduation almost immediately after the ceremonies. That meant that they all had a few hours head start on him and would probably be to faded to be good company when he did arrive. But that still didn't stop Luke from stopping in at the tapcaf they agreed on for their after grad party.

As to be expected, of the twelve men Luke had shared a barracks with for the past two years, only three of them remained when he walked through the door. One of them was just paying his tab, a woman Luke had never seen before under one arm.

"I'm telling ya, baby, I ship out tonight." He was saying to her. "Oh, hey Lars, ya made it! A bit late. Maybe you can scoop Vard and Ika up off the floor."

He left.

Vard and Ika were leaning over a table against the back wall. With a sigh, Luke crossed the tapcaff to assess them. Of the twelve bunkmates that Luke actually got along with, Ika was probably the closest one he would come to calling a 'best friend'. They weren't nearly as close as Luke had been with Biggs, but then, Biggs had to go off and desert on his first tour and place Luke in an uncomfortable situation with ISB right at the start of his second year at the Academy. Some great friend he turned out to be.

But Luke wasn't gonna think about that now. This was the eve of his graduation from the Imperial Naval Academy. This was a happy day. Even if he was about to spend it taking care of his two drunk bunkmates that -in all likelihood- he would never see again. With a conscious effort, Luke pushed Biggs from his mind.

Ika seemed to be past out on the table. A disposable coaster his only cushion against the hard plasteel and vinyl of the tabletop. Vard was at least sitting mostly vertical, but by the looks of it no less drunk. He used one hand to prop his face up while the other shot into the air in an unnecessarily showy greeting. He flailed spastically. "Hey! Look who made it!"

"A bit late, I think." Luke said as he slid into the booth next to Ika.

"Nah. I's cool. We'll just get a new bottle." He flagged down a serving droid. "Another round for me and my buddies. And make the late arrivals a double -to make up for lost time."

"Belay that." He said to the droid. Luke just shook his head. He was in no mood to get drunk tonight. The fact that he was to report for transport and deployment absurdly in the morning or risk missing the boat aside, he just had a feeling it was in his best interest not to get completely sloshed. "We'll have a round of caff instead. And make their's a double."

Vard scoff. "Ya know, Lars, for a guy who never had a daddy growing up, you act an awful lot like my father." With no small amount of effort, he pushed himself to his feet and jerkily maneuvered out of the booth. "Forget this. I'm going to finish cleaning out my bunk."

Staggering mildly, he made his way to the door, where he flagged down a transport. Well, at least he would be safe taxieing back to base.

Luke turned to look at Ika. He should probably call a transport for him too.

Standing, Luke crossed to the public holo-net, passing a very pretty red-head on his way and he lamented the fact that he had to take care of his drunkard friend. She probably wouldn't want to stay and chat with someone who associated with rowdy or irresponsible soldiers like them. Suppressing a sigh, he dialed the public transport company's number that had been very boldly posted over the terminal's key-pad and ordered a taxi to take Ika (and probably him too) back to base.

It didn't take long for the transport to arrive and when it did, Luke helped the driver carry his passed-out friend into the back seat. But Luke didn't feel much like going along. He had come to this tapcaff expecting a party -it was the eve of his graduation, after all- he felt he was entitled to at least some form of celebration. Luke payed the transport driver and went back into the tapcaff.

It was only after he sat back down at their table that the serving droid appeared with their three cups of caff.

Luke's face fell into the palm of his hand.

The pretty red-head by the holo-net terminal gave an amused laugh.

Luke looked back at her and their eyes met over the empty tapcaff. Her eyes were brilliant, and deep, and very very green. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he felt a wonderful and glittering feeling of exhilaration at the fact that a pretty girl was looking at him with a smile. That glittering feeling was quickly scrubbed away, however, when Luke remembered that he had no idea how to talk to girls.

Back home, he'd hung out with Fixer's girlfriend. But that was always in a group setting and besides, she was already in a relationship with someone. There were a few female cadets at the Academy. But you didn't talk to them like girls unless you wanted to get punched in the dick. Luke really didn't wanna get punched in the dick by the pretty red-head.

Perhaps he hesitated a little to long after their eyes met because the red-head picked up her own drink and crossed the room to sit at his booth. "You gonna drink all those, Cadet?"

Oh, crap. The pretty girl was talking to him. What should he say? Should he make a joke? Or play it strait? Did girls like funny men, or strait forward men? Well, whatever he said, he better say something soon. Luke suddenly realized that his silence was stretching on into awkward territory. "Uh, uh… I, uh… Its 'Pilot'."

"What?" She blinked at him with those deep, sparkling, emerald green eyes.

"I'm not a Cadet anymore." I explained quickly, his ears coloring self-consciously. "I graduated today. Now I'm a Pilot."

"Oh. I see. A pilot." She gave one of those smiles people give when they're humoring a small child and Luke suddenly felt like he had already messed up with this girl. The flushing of his ears spread to his cheeks. She must have noticed the blush (then again, how could she not?), because she took pity on him. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

Luke blinked. "Uh, not good at what?"

"Flirting." She said as if this should have been obvious. "Chatting up women. Attempting to entice them to leave with you. Shore leave doesn't last forever and you can't afford to waste time. I assume you're shipping out tomorrow?"

"Y-yes." He nodded.

"So you've got, what, maybe seven hours before you have to report to your transport."

"Well, yes, actually." Luke had to pause. She knew an awful lot about military logistics. But then again, this was an Academy town. The locals must be used to young soldier-boys coming and going and trying to pick up their young women in between.

"Well, Pilot, I've got even less time than that." She informed him, running a finger over the rim of one of the untouched caff mugs. "Ya see, I just came here for a quick job and now that the jobs done, I've only got a couple hours before I have to be lifting off and flying out."

"Oh, do you work for a shipping company?" Luke asked. Work was a polite subject to discuss, right?

She just shook her head, her red hair cascading round her shoulders in elegant waves. "No, no, you're getting this all wrong." She said. "Listen, Pilot, I have to ship out soon, you have to ship out soon. You're cute. I'm hot. And we're both lonely. You can't take me back to your barracks, and I won't take you to my ship. So, I was thinking of maybe one of those pay-by-the-hour places down the street from the port. We share a couple hours together, then go our separate ways. I don't tell you my name, you don't tell me your pilot designation."

Luke just blinked at her. It… it sounded like she was trying to proposition him. The blush on his face colored to almost scarlet. Oh, the things Aunt Beru would have to say if she heard this. "I… I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I don't do that sort of thing. I, uh, I wasn't brought up that way. But… if you like, I'll treat you to dinner."

With a sigh, the woman leaned back in her seat. "I don't suppose I've got the time to hunt down a better deal. Alright, Pilot, a chase little dinner date it'll be."

Finally feeling balanced for the first time since she sat down, Luke flagged down the serving droid. "Two menus, please."

She learned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "Well, Pilot, you're the first man to ever refuse my offer. So, either you're a perfect gentleman -which thought were just creatures of pure myth- or else I'm not your type of company."

"Oh, I know I'm not a perfect gentleman." Luke assured her. He was idealistic and given over to fantasies and delusions of grandeur. Definitely not perfect. "But my aunt did raise me to be respectful."

"Good aunt." She took a sip of one of the abandoned cups of caff.

"So…" Luke began awkwardly. "If you don't tell me your name, and I'm not allowed to tell you my pilot designation… what are we gonna talk about?"

"Good question." She nodded, tapping her bottom lip in thought. "What made you decide to become a pilot?"

"I was a little short for a Stormtrooper." He joked. "But actually, I always wanted to be a pilot. My father was a navigator on a spice freighter and a navigator is basically a co-pilot."

...

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

That was Mara Jade sitting with him at the tap caff, BTW. Luke wasn’t gonna see her again until after the destruction of the Death Star.

Vader was gonna “sense a ripple in the Force” once Luke arrived on the Deathstar for his tour of duty. But he wasn’t actually going to take note of Luke specifically until Obi-Wan, Han, and... BIGGS DARKLIGHTER break onto the Deathstar to rescue Leia.

In this AU, Biggs lives. He’s the one who makes the shot that destroys the Deathstar.

Luke and Vader are the only survivors.

After their fighters (Vader’s TIE Advanced, and Luke’s shitty regular live-1 TIE fighter) are picked up by another Imperial ship, Vader confronts Luke face-to-mask.

Luke’s all like “I wanted to be a pilot because of my father.”

To which Vader replies “Owen Lars has never been, nor will he ever be, a pilot.” (Remember: Luke enlisted under the name “Lars”.)

Luke should be confused by Vader knowing so much about his uncle, but Luke’s also kinda dumb. So he just assumed Vader read his personnel file. He get’s all self-conscious and confesses to enlisting under a different name. Owen Lars is actually his uncle, not his father. His father’s name was Skywalker.

Vader doesn’t visibly react, but behind his mask he’s just like, “OH SHIT!”

And that’s where the “A New Hope” volume of this AU was gonna end.

#star wars #luke skywalker #Darth vader #luke lars #alternate universe #au #pre-disney buyout #expanded universe #eu #mara jade #fan fiction #abandoned project #renkonnairu

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antihero-writings · 3 years

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In Plain Sight

Cover art by Stlyrica on instagram!! I’ll put a link to it in the replies!!